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Village Voices
Village Voices is the online showcase of creativity by the members and volunteers of The Village Common of Rhode Island. We welcome submissions in all media: 2- and 3-dimensional art, creative writing, transformative ideas, crafting, and art collections. As important is the personal stories that accompany each submission.

Bob Parrillo

Bob Parrillo
Biography

I am the product of Rhode Island’s public-schools, from the first grade through college. A significant accomplishment for me in college was to persuade the English Department to reverse its decision to deny tenure to an extraordinary, but unpublished, teacher. It is a powerful feeling to persuade people who have publicly announced their decision on an issue.

Helping a deserving person get justice was exciting and satisfying on two levels. The wrong done to this teacher was righted; I was thrilled by my success in battle. While I wasn’t another Atticus Finch, my heart was in the right place. I needed to become a trial lawyer.



After college, I was in the Army, in a non-combat role, stateside. I am a conscientious objector. After discharge, I became a plumber’s helper. Thereafter, I began law school and loved everything about it. Things couldn’t have been better: I was in Boston/Cambridge, an exciting place for a single guy, being filled with single women. I was an editor of the law review, one byproduct of which was to help smooth the way for me socially. In a thousand years, I never could have imagined what lay ahead for me. “Oh, the places you’ll go!” says Dr Suess.

Here are a few highlights of my career as a trial lawyer outside of a courtroom:
  • Law clerk to Thomas H. Roberts, Chief Justice, RI Supreme Court.
  • Member of the Board of Bar Examiners for the US District Court.
  • Fellow in the International Academy of Trial Lawyers, an invitation-only group limited to 500 lawyers.
  • Frequent lecturer on trial practice and trial ethics.
  • Board member of the RI Affiliate of the ACLU.
  • Board member of the RI Legal Services.
Forgive me for adding this one “war story,” a highlight of my career: Justice William J. Brennan, Jr., US Supreme Court Justice, recognized me at a luncheon and called me by name, even though our only prior contact was years earlier when I argued before the US Supreme Court.

Since my retirement 15 years ago at the age of 62, I have spent most of my time, in addition to stone carving, in traveling. My last pre-pandemic journey was sailing in the Ionian Sea, swing dancing at every little port town square of the islands we would visit.
Artist's Statment

During my time as a lawyer, I wrote stories that had a beginning, middle, and end — stories to tell juries in opening statements and final arguments. “This is the harm done to my client by the defendant. Here is how it happened and why the defendant is responsible. You must right this situation as best it can be by returning a verdict of [X] dollars for my client.”

Also, a regular part of my practice as a trial lawyer was writing legal briefs and memoranda of law, hundreds of them. I enjoyed the requirement of being precise, concise, and persuasive. Now I am retired, and my writing has changed.

Writing fiction is new to me. When I learned that the Village Common was offering a Writers’ Workshop, I joined it. This is where I wrote my first non-legal stories, which appear below: “The Good Boy” and “Grocery Day.” These are not comedies. Nor are they light fiction. You may not enjoy them. I hope, however that they are worthy of your time to read.

I submitted a third piece to my Writers’ Workshop inspired by the classic film, Casablanca: “Aslyo.” Aslyo is the name of a town in a small, idyllic, fictional Greek island. It is a story of adventure, friendship, and romance. Should you read “Aslyo,” I hope you enjoy it.

Click this pdf icon to view/download a printable pdf version of A Good Boy
A Good Boy
The Antenuccis lived on the second story of a three-decker house on Ledge Street in Providence, a neighborhood of mostly Italian immigrants.
Mr. and Mrs. Antenucci, Vincenzo and Gloria, had six girls and two boys. The younger of the boys was Joseph, the fourth Antenucci child.

Mrs. Antenucci kept a spotless home. Each of the children had assigned chores. The girls helped with the cooking, they cleaned the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms while the boys mopped the floors, and they fetched the groceries and took out the trash. In the warm months, the boys helped Papa with his tomato garden.

Joseph worked as hard as he could at school and on his homework. His grades, however, never matched his efforts.

On the morning after he brought home his November report card, of which he was ashamed, Vincenzo put his arm around Gloria and said, “He’s such a good boy, Gloria, I hope he doesn’t get discouraged.” “Don’t worry, Vinny,” she said. “He will be just fine. You watch.”

The family loved Nona; she lived with them. Nona was a widow who suffered from dementia. In the evenings right after dinner, Joseph would read the Bible to her. Some nights she seemed to understand what was happening.

On Sundays, Joseph would gather his brother and sisters and lead them to church. Sometimes he had to urge them, “Come on, come on, come on.” Sometimes Angela, one of Joseph’s younger sisters, would playfully call back, “Ok! Ok! Ok! Keep your knickers on.” Joseph made sure that the Antenucci family was never late for Mass. Joseph saw to it that his family always took the entire third pew on the left side of the church.
Vincenzo Antenucci required his sons to be acolytes at church. Joseph did what his father expected him to do.

Despite being an acolyte, Joseph never believed in God. He could not accept that a loving, merciful god would be so cruel. There was too much suffering by good people to believe that a just and fair god would allow this to happen. Where was this God? Would God be so mean? Why does He continually push people, in His name, to kill others in wars? Why were some people given wealth while others went hungry? It simply did not make sense to Joseph.

If He was real, why would He punish his neighbors, the Jacksons and the Turners? Why were they chosen to be so poor? Why were they chosen to be hungry? These were good people. Why weren’t Mr. Jackson and Mr. Turner hired for even the simplest of jobs? It was true that they had no education. But they could use a pick and shovel. Other men, illiterate men who had no skills, just arms and backs that could dig dirt, were favored by this god? Why were others left to starve? It seemed that everyone except him accepted these “mysteries of the faith” and worshiped God.

But, Joseph was a good boy so he kept his mouth shut about this. It would shame his family if his denial that God existed was known. Joseph would never do that.

Joseph was not handsome, just average-looking. He blended in with the other boys. When his teacher lined up the children for the class picture Joseph was halfway between the tallest and shortest kids in the class. Joseph’s looks reflected his heritage. His skin was shaded and his hair was dark. Joseph’s eyes were soft and somewhat dark. Those eyes were different from all the other children. Joseph’s eyes could look at you with a seriousness that was threatening. Although he was quiet, he was friendly and well-liked.

All of the kids in the neighborhood, boys and girls, respected and trusted Joseph. They knew, no matter what the situation might be, that you could rely on Joseph. It was well known at Esek Hopkins Elementary School what Joseph had done for his friend Tom Jackson.

Tom owned a beat-up bicycle. One day when Tom was riding his bike just outside of the Ledge Street neighborhood, a wise-ass from “up the hill,” shoved Tom off his bike. The punk took Tom’s bike saying, “Tough shit, asshole, it’s mine now.”

Joseph heard about this. He found Tom and, with Tom on the back fender, Joseph peddled straight to Federal Hill. They found the bike. The punk, Guido “The Foot,” and his boys were there. Joseph and Tom got off Joseph’s bicycle. Joseph told Tom, “Get on my bike now. If anything starts to happen, I want you to ride home, as fast as you can. Don’t look back. Just ride. Fast as you can go.”

Joseph picked up Tom’s bike and got on it. Not believing what he was seeing, Guido went up to Joseph and said, “What the fuck you think you’re doing, shit for brains?”

Joseph got off the bicycle and put it down. He closed in on Guido, nose to nose. Joseph looked possessed. He looked straight into Guido’s eyes. Joseph never blinked. He said nothing.

The biggest guy in Guido’s group said, “Hey, Foot, whatta youse gonna do?”

Guido knew that any fight would be one on one. He would get no help from his gang. Guido knew that messing with this guy would be dangerous. Guido was thinking, “This guy’s fucking crazy.” It would also be beyond embarrassing if he lost the fight. He hesitated but eventually backed down. As he did, he spit off to the side and said, “Go on, take that piece of shit bike. I don’t give a goddamn about it or you.”

Without a word, Joseph turned his back on Guido. He walked to Tom’s bike and got on. Joseph nodded his head to Tom. The boys rode home.

Word spread around Ledge Street about this. Joseph’s status among the local kids was always solid. With this episode, however, he became a force.

Joseph’s reputation was not known, however, to Father William, pastor at the local church where Joseph served as an acolyte.

Joseph’s closest friend, Anthony Sartucci, was also an acolyte. On the last Saturday in November, the two boys were lazing away the day on a bench in Lincoln Woods Park. They were just shooting the bull.

Anthony asked Joseph, “So, DiMagio or Williams?”

Joseph was a bit on the fence, “Well, both are really good; but I gotta say Williams.”

Anthony was quick, “Yeah, but Joe’s people are from the old country. It’s DiMagio. No question.”

Joseph resisted and said, “Your people from Sicily? No. That’s where DiMagio’s from.”

Anthony did not give up, “Still, he’s a pisan.”

Joseph relented, “Okay. DiMagio.”

Anthony then got into a touchy subject. At least for boys, it is. “You like Amelia?”

Joseph’s face turned pink. His secret was known by his best friend. “Are you kiddin? She’s the prettiest girl in class. Smartest too. And who is the hardest to get ‘out’ in dodgeball? She’s gonna like me? Are you nuts? No way.”

Anthony grinned, “So, you like her. What the hell? Let me tell you what my cousin Josephine says. Amelia likes you. A lot. Since the first grade. She’s just shy about you. She’d really like it if you talked to her.”

Joseph was actually not surprised. But he was embarrassed. He stuttered, “Yeah. ...Well. ...”

After a pause, Anthony went silent. He hung his head and covered his face with his hands. His shoulders shook. Joseph did not move. He stayed silent, respecting Anthony’s privacy. Joseph did not say a word. It seemed like hours passed. Anthony eventually uncovered his face. He had been crying. Anthony swore Joseph to secrecy. Anthony was certain that Joseph could be trusted.

It was then that Anthony spewed out his demons. He told Joseph what Father William would do to him in the rectory. Eventually, in silence, the boys rode back to Ledge Street.

Neither God nor anyone else told Father William that Joseph knew the shit the acolytes had to take from Father. The next day, after Mass, Father William had Joseph stop for a moment. Father told Joseph, “I need some help dusting the statuettes on the altar. Come by Tuesday after dinner.”

Joseph arrived on Tuesday evening. Father spoke quietly to Joseph. Father handed Joseph gifts of Baby Ruth candy bars and baseball cards. “Here, these are for you. You always have been a good boy. Everyone is proud of you.” Father told Joseph what a beautiful, special boy he was.

Father then told Joseph, “God needs you to drop your pants.” Joseph knew what was coming. Father William moved close to Joseph saying, “Jesus preached that men should be near to one another. They should hold and love one another.”

Father started to embrace Joseph. Father put his left arm around Joseph’s shoulder and with his right hand he reached for the zipper of Joseph’s pants.

In less time it takes to bless yourself, Joseph grabbed a brass candlestick holder from Father’s desk. Joseph smashed Father across his mouth.

Father’s knees buckled. He went down. He was crying, wailing. Father coughed out teeth and blood. Joseph stood over Father and waited.

Father eventually slowed his crying and lifted his head. Not understanding what had happened, he pleaded, “Why?” In a quiet voice Joseph said, “I’ll tell you why.” He then spit out, as sarcastically as possible, “Father.”

Then, with both hands, Joseph grabbed Father William’s hair. Joseph yanked Father up. They were inches apart. Finally, Father looked at Joseph, who said, “You will never touch Anthony again.” Joseph dropped Father’s head. Joseph left the rectory. He did not close the door. Joseph walked home.

Two weeks later, the bishop transferred Father William to another parish. He was replaced by a priest who was known by the bishop to also be a pedophile.

Father Willam never again bothered Anthony.

But Father William was given a brand-new flock of boys.

God works in strange ways.
Bob Parrillo

Click this pdf icon to view/download a printable pdf version of Grocery Day
Grocery Day
I am retired. Thankfully, however, I am aging well.

My responsibilities at home include all matters pertaining to the kitchen. It is grocery day. Doing the grocery shopping is not a task. Rather, it is a hobby, a tame, solo, Walter Mitty adventure. I enjoy it.

My ritual: First, review my grocery list. As always, my wife has added toilet paper to the list. Damn it. How many rolls of toilet paper do we need? There are only two of us in the house. The Pandemic is over. Well, sort of. Ease your anxiety. Please. There are zero benefits to stress. I say nothing regarding this addition. I hunt. I gather. I do not confront.

Is toilet paper worth never-forgotten words of disapproval?

Is anything worth uttering words while upset, irritated, or angry? Of course not.

I do not confront. She makes a good point. I stay silent.

Dressing the part, I don my khaki pants, a denim shirt, and my well worn Carhartt construction worker jacket. Grocery list in hand, I pick up my keys.

Into the garage I go. I open the door to the MINI. While getting into the car I am cautious. Banging my head on the top of the car as I step inside would not be a good start to my adventure. I have done it before. I do not like it. Even if no one sees it. Celebrating the extraordinary success of my recent lumbar fusion, I drop into the seat. It is as if I were a race car driver starting at Le Mans.

The sky is clear. It is “bluer than the eyes of your lover.” It is 46 degrees. Warm enough for the convertible top to be down. Down it goes. Screw anyone who thinks I am an old, post-midlife crisis fool.

I go through my takeoff checklist: Seatbelt on, check; gloves on, check; garage door open, check (I have backed into the closed garage door several times). I back out slowly. Driving through the neighborhood I never exceed the speed limit. Well ... I do go a constant 4 mph over. Yes, it’s illegal, but not Bonnie and Clyde illegal. Once on the highway, I race through the gears, running each time to redline before I shift up.
When I arrive at the store parking lot, I park facing out next to a beat-up, old pickup truck. It arrived about the same time I did. The truck is adorned with a huge American flag mounted on one side of the bed with a matching Confederate flag on the other side. The truck is a billboard. Bumper stickers of the MAGA faithful belch out hateful slogans.

The truck driver walks just ahead of me. He is sour-looking with a scowl on his face. The work shirt he is wearing has “Ralph” on the front pocket. He wears a broken in MAGA hat. I follow him into the store.

I love going to the grocery store. At the entrance to the store I stand awestruck. I look in at the bountiful products: Ripe, blemish-free produce of any variety you could want; a display case of fish, freshly caught, some varieties of which I never knew existed; juicy meat, red as a rose; groceries of every variety; jars of macaroni sauce better than my grandmother ever made; baked goods, the aroma of which would embarrass and anger any Parisian Boulanger.

I enjoy the familiarity with the other customers. We are strangers. Nevertheless, we have a bond, a bit of comradery. We exchange smiles.
There is an older shopper who looks furtively at the boxes of Wheatena on the top shelf. Without being asked, I get on my tiptoes and grab one for him. “Thank you,” he says. I reply, “My pleasure.” We exchange smiles. Our days are made.

I wonder. Where the heck are the figs? I look up. As always, a pleasant employee is nearby. She has a Google-like knowledge of where to find anything in the store. “Figs?” she asks. “Aisle 4, near the center, left side, third shelf from the bottom.” Although I do not think I look helpless, she leads me to Aisle 4. We walk halfway down the aisle. “Hot damn,” I say. “Thanks.” She just smiles and returns to where I interrupted her. My day gets better and better.

It is an unstated custom in this store that you do not advertise your political persuasion. Customers here likely favor blue politics; but, they rarely wear these views on their sleeves.

But then there is Ralph, the fellow from the Red Pride truck. He is the stand-alone exception to our otherwise polite, pleasant shopping experience. He is rude. “Are youse tryin’ ta sell these apples? That one is bruised,” he tells the produce manager, Tom. Ironically, at that moment Tom is replacing any apple that shows even a hint of aging with a shiny new one. “Sorry, sir,” is all Tom says.

Ralph’s surly attitude is consistent with the remainder of his shopping trip. He elbows his way to the front at the fish counter. Tony, the worker behind the counter politely points out that there is a lady ahead of him. Ralph stands his ground. The woman says to Tony, “It’s ok. I’ve got other things I need to pick up. I’ll be back.”

Ralph knows he is out of place. He is a pariah. “So what?” He thinks. “Fuck ‘em. Fuck all of ‘em.”

Maybe Ralph is just having a bad day.

Customers, including me, steer clear of him. It turns out that Ralph and I finish shopping about the same time.

Ralph seems to have saved his last unpleasantness for a young cashier, Gina. With a sneer he watches her closely. He complains that his groceries are too expensive and that she is slow. “Come on girlie, I ain’t got all day.” Once her job is done, Gina hands Ralph his receipt. She says as pleasantly as she can, “Have a nice day, sir.” He does not respond.

I am checked out just after Ralph. I push my carriage outdoors and head for my car.

Ralph’s pickup truck is parked between my car and a pristine, black S-Class Mercedes sedan. The owner of the Mercedes has the courage to still have a “Hillary 2020” sticker on the rear bumper of her car. Ah, life in peaceful East Greenwich. Ralph scans the parking lot. He hopes to face down the fagot Mercedes owner. No luck. He abruptly backs out of his parking spot. I hear the scraping sound of metal against metal as Ralph’s truck sideswipes the Mercedes.

Ralph slows down. He glares in all directions. He is looking for the Mercedes owner.

I sit still in my car. I am flushed with guilt over my good fortune. The MINI is untouched. Don’t I care about the Mercedes owner?

Thankfully, the MINI is parked facing the travel lane. Ralph is not able to see the two bumper stickers on the back bumper of my car: “SPF-0” (with the top down, the MINI has a zero Sun Protection Factor) and “Vitamin D” (the Sunshine Vitamin). Had he seen those two cutesy messages, he likely would have smacked both the Mercedes and the MINI.

The remorse I feel for being spared Ralph’s assault on the Hillary car suddenly, spontaneously and surprisingly flips to rage. Foolishly I am not thinking of the pain I would surely suffer by Ralph’s unwashed hands were I to reveal my anger. I am not thinking sensibly. I am not thinking at all. Now is when, for the first time in my life, despite my fortress of silent fear, my anger grabs me. Hard. It controls me. I am crazed. I am wild. My cowardice is mashed by my rage. My insides are roiling from 5 years of repressed cowering. I jump out of the MINI. Like a lion whose roar is heard for miles, I scream, “HEY!”

Ralph jams on his brakes. His truck squeals to a stop. He gets out. This clearly is not the first time he has done something like this. His eyes are wide. His hands are balled into fists. He starts to walk toward me. Maybe he just wants to scare me.

He is bigger than me. He is probably younger than me. I am fit. The years, however, have not been kind to him.

Still, I am certain that if I stand fast, I will be beaten like a horseshoe by a blacksmith My confidence is receding.

Saying nothing, I quickly turn to get back to the MINI. I hear a grunt. It was Ralph starting to throw a roundhouse punch at my head. I duck and spin around. His punch misses my head but slams into my shoulder. I am knocked back a few steps. I don’t go down. I am okay. The smack I took fires me.

I have never been in a fight like this. Now is the time.

Like shot from a gun, I go right at him. With my forearm I whack his throat with all my might. He is staggered. He stumbles back a few steps. He falls on his ass. He is gasping for breath.

I turn and head for my car.

Thank God. Police cars are racing to the scene.

A woman rushes over to the MINI. She is the owner of the Mercedes. “I saw the whole thing! I cannot tell you how much I appreciate what you did.”

I am so shaken that I cannot speak. My head is swirling with feelings and memories. None of which I can identify. All of which, however, will be vomited out in tears of terror in my psychiatrist’s office.
Robert D. Parrillo

Click this pdf icon to view/download a printable pdf version of Asylo
Asylo
I sailed into port on a lonely island in the Ionian Sea.

This small Greek island, Mikogandrous, was like so many others with its white, sandy beaches, hidden caves, mountains, and water as clear as a Tiffany diamond.

My discovery of Mikogandous happened in October 2016. I had chartered a 48’ sailboat, the “Elskov,” to sail among the Greek islands. So gorgeous was this sleek, snow-white sloop with its gleaming varnished bright work and bronze hardware that it caught the eye of many envious sailors.

This classic vessel was built in Norway by world-class boatwrights. Elskov is a Norwegian word. Translated into English it means “heated passion” or “sexual love.”

Traveling alone is common for me. Although I am not gregarious, I would often meet others along the way and form close bonds. These relationships are as memorable to me as any rainbow-colored sunset.

I had no agenda on this voyage other than to enjoy the wind, sky, sea, and sailing. If adventure presented itself, all the better. Finding islands in the Ionian Sea with secluded caves, coves with silvery sand beaches, and almost invisible water bluer than the eyes of your lover was not unusual but always breathtaking.

I pulled Elskov into a dock in Mikogandous’ port town, Asylo, which means sanctuary in English.

While securing Elskov’s dock lines to the pier, a fellow raced down the quay to Elskov and me. He wore a sun-bleached blue fisherman’s cap, a well-worn denim shirt and khaki pants. He had tousled blond hair, movie star good looks, and a wide, infectious smile. He was sufficiently self-assured that he need not try to impress anyone. He was unpretentious. His name was David Upton. He was an American expatriate.

Upton shouted out at me as he approached, “Ahoy! Welcome my friend!” I held out my hand. But a handshake was inadequate for Upton. Instead, with a wide smile, he greeted me with a crushing bear hug. “I’m Upton, Davis Upton,” he told me.

His welcome was with the joy of a man meeting a brother not seen for many years. His hug sealed our instant friendship. Once free of his embrace I told him, “I am pleased to meet you. My name is Jack, Jack Regosta.”

“Before we bother with your gear, Jack, let’s get a beer at To Iliofeneia Kafe, ‘the Sunshine Cafe,” Upton said. “It’s the meeting place of all the citizens of Mikogandous.

With that we walked with his arm around my shoulder, like soldiers who lived through battle together, into the Sunshine. We sat at a small, beer-stained table and drank a couple of Mythos beers without a word between us. It was at that point that we began the stories of our pasts. We spoke a bit about our origins, families, and careers. It was when we began talking of our adventures and lovers of our pasts that our conversation came alive.

We could have talked nonstop until sunrise. Our conversations continued during many nights thereafter. Even then we could not fully lay out ourselves, our intimate dreams, our hopes, and beliefs.

Upton seemed to know everyone. He was liked and respected by everyone.

Several days passed while I walked about the island absorbing the life and charm of Mikogandous. My nights were for time at the Sunshine with Upton.

The cafe was small, dark, and filled at the end of a hard day’s work by fishermen after they off-loaded their catch. Despite their long days at sea, these fishermen had plenty of energy left to talk, laugh and make Sunshine come alive with energy and joy. Old disputes and ancient grudges between men melted away. All at the Sunshine were merry. Brothers.

There were no menus at the Sunshine. Nor was there a chalkboard listing food available for patrons. The fare was the daily catch, fresh vegetables, and fried potatoes. Meals ended with dark coffee and sweet melomakarona or baklava.

Upton told me about his previous life as a successful financier in New York City. He explained that he grew to hate his career. “The lack of morality among my business associates became so repugnant to me that I abruptly retired.” His ultimate explanation was, he said, “ To cleanse my soul.”

His leaving work was at odds with his wife’s desires. That factor, among others, led to an amicable divorce and Upton’s immediate departure from New York. He left to find his future - wherever that may be.

Like me, Upton was a seeker of adventure. He learned of an idyllic island among the many Greek islands from a close friend of Greek descent. Immediately thereafter Upton set off for the Ionian Sea to find whatever satisfaction Mikogandous could offer. That was 4 years before we met. He fell in love with the island. After a couple of days of rest, Upton looked for a job. The only work available was on a fishing trawler, the “Melissa S.” He worked with enthusiasm, fellowship and a desire to please. His mates unanimously liked him and respected him.

The Sunshine had been owned and operated by a bachelor named Demetrius Kamaras. When Demetrious died there was no citizen of Mikogandous able or willing to take over ownership and management of Sunshine.

Having won the affection of his shipmates and the people of Asylo, Upton was presented with the opportunity to acquire and operate Sunshine. He eagerly embraced this situation. Upton’s outgoing, upbeat personality made him a perfect fit to run Sunshine. He loved to meet newcomers and sing and dance with all his customers. It was with that joie de vivre that he met me.

At the Sunshine, I told Upton about my career as a trial lawyer in Providence, RI. I boasted of my status as an arguably large fish in the small pond of my practice in RI. I loved the challenge and satisfaction of trial practice.

The love of my life was Laura, my wife of twenty years. She taught creative writing at Brown University. Laura was my cheerleader and inspiration. She would help me prepare for my trials. Laura challenged arguments I planned to make in court. I accepted her thoughts and suggestions almost every time she would offer them.

One night, about 2 weeks after I landed in Mikogandous, with no prompting, I told Upton about Laura’s death. She had an early onset of breast cancer. It metastasized seemingly overnight. Between sobs, I explained to Upton her courage and death twenty-two years ago.

My friend put his hand over mine. He said nothing. Upton knew his compassionate act expressed what he could never accomplish with words.

Laura and I had not been able to have children. Laura’s death left me alone, lonely, and without purpose. Having lost my enthusiasm for life, I left the practice of law at an early age. As trite as it may sound, I wanted to travel and find a new life. Hence my voyage with Elskov.

After having heard my anguishing saga, Upton opened up to me. Hesitantly, he exposed from the recesses of his heart his deepest secret. He spoke of his tenderness and desire for a woman named Gabriella.

Despite his bravado and outgoing nature, he never approached Gabriella. “I could not risk being rejected,” he told me. Until then he had locked away his feelings even from me.

Upton’s disclosure was like a hard punch to my gut.

Several days ago by chance, I met a woman named Gabriella.

On the outskirts of Asylo was a narrow alleyway of no identified name. This passageway was, as were all the lanes and alleyways of Asylo, decorated with window boxes of flowers: begonias, petunias, verbena, and other colorful flowers. Toward the center of this alleyway was a shop that sold hand-sewn children’s clothing.

There was no reason for me to have strolled down this alleyway except curiosity. The centuries-old alley was paved with cobblestones. As I walked along gawking at the flowers cascading down from the windows, I did not notice an uneven stone. I stumbled over it and fell. My fall was not graceful. I held out my hand to break my fall.

The lesion was not quite enough to draw any blood. Before I could stand up and dust myself off a woman hurried from the shop to help me.

She was tall and thin - fit in an athletic way. Her shoulder-length, lustrous, slightly sun-streaked hair was the color of a sunrise. It was secured behind her with a black, silk ribbon. She had on a plain, long, beige sundress of thin, slightly crumpled linen. She wore no jewelry. The nails on her fingers and toes were not painted. Her skin was tanned. She moved with the grace of a prima ballerina. Her face bested the beauty of Grace Kelly.

A goddess had come to aid me.

She knelt next to me - close enough so that her knee more than slightly brushed my thigh. She took my scraped hand with her right hand. Although my sleeve was not in the way of where I fell on my hand, she gently placed her left hand on my arm and slowly slid it upward along my arm to move my sleeve up. All the while she looked straight at me. I boldly looked back at her.

The skin in my hand was not broken. She softly patted it better. We stood. We were still looking into one another’s eyes.

“I’m Gabriella.”

“I’m Jack. I will see you tomorrow.”

She said, “I will pray for that.” She turned and went back inside the shop.

We met at her shop three days running. Our conversations were soft, slow, and intimate. We were falling. We had a future.
After revealing his secret longing for Gabriella, I immediately knew he was talking about my angel Gabriella. I listened to Upton. My stomach was churning. My heart raced.

When he paused I weighed in. “Upton, you are among the small fraction of people to have found your true love.” I counseled him: “You must not be shy. You must be bold. Go to her.”

I promised him, “She will accept you and share your passion, your love. I guarantee it.”

I offered that guarantee not knowing what might happen between him and Gabriella. She might not fancy him, let alone fall in love with him. Who can tell? I could only hope to get him off his ass and go to her.

We embraced with all the love, devotion, and comradery I had ever experienced. The only words spoken once our hug ended were mine, “Bon chance, my good friend.”




The next morning, before the sun rose, without a word to anyone, Elskov and I sailed away.